But Anthony wasted no time; in the captain's cabin he threw open the cupboard doors and saw a brace of silver-mounted pistols upon a shelf. One of these, together with the lieutenant's empty one, he threw from a stern window; then with the other he turned to face the officer of the watch whose boots were clumping down the short ladder. At sight of Anthony this man fired; but the young man flattened himself against the wall and his return shot sent the privateersman writhing to the deck with a broken shoulder. Snatching up the man's weapon, Anthony ran up the ladder to the main-deck. The watch was hurrying aft; he could see the black face of the cook above the edge of the forward hatch. Pitching the two empty pistols over the rail, he drew out one of those he had loaded himself. "Keep your places!" he growled. The blood had started to ooze from his wounds once more and stained the bandages about his head; and as he stood with hunched shoulders menacing them with the pistol the sailors halted. "Close the forward hatch," directed Anthony, "and fasten it down!" They hesitated; he sent a shot rattling among them, and then they leaped to obey. Again an empty pistol went over the side, and a fresh one appeared in his hand. To the man at the wheel he said, "Stand away!" The man did as he was bidden; and under Anthony's hand the bow of the schooner began to creep around toward the shore. While it was still turning, Mademoiselle Lafargue appeared on deck; her quick glances took in the sullen group of seamen amidships and the grim figure at the wheel. "In five minutes," she said quietly, "the ship will be aground." "I had reasoned it at a trifle more than that," said Anthony, giving eye by turns to the schooner's course and the muttering watch. "But a few minutes more or less makes no odds." She regarded him coldly. "The two men below are desperately hurt," she said. "I note that the captain is in no hurry to make a third," said Anthony, cocking his eye toward the after hatch. Almost as the words left him the master of the schooner popped his head above its edge; instantly the long pistol lifted and exploded; the ball tore away the combing, within a foot of the head, and it disappeared like magic. There was silence after this, and with a fresh pistol Anthony casually menaced the watch. The warm, thick smell of a marshy shore came from the nearing bank; birds were whistling; beyond the trees a plowman was heard calling to his horses. The bottom of the schooner scraped, and a shudder ran through her to the tips of her masts. Then she struck; the sails flapped uselessly, and the stern swung about to the tide. "Lower away a boat," directed Anthony, his frowning eyes on the watch. "And make haste. There are some among you whom I have to thank for the hurts I got last night; which struck the blows, I don't know, but a few leaden slugs may pick them out." He handled the pistol with a readiness that carried fright into their hearts. "Lower a boat."